


Slipping Away

by radiantdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, M/M, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantdean/pseuds/radiantdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fulfilled tumblr prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping Away

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're interested, my tumblr is radiantdean (:

It had started with the little things.

After the defeat of Metatron, Cas had come to stay with the boys in the bunker. All tried to go about their lives as normally as possible.

But Dean and Sam couldn’t help sharing looks when Cas looked dizzy from standing up out of his chair, or was winded and had to sit down after climbing a flight of stairs.

They couldn’t ignore how Cas sometimes looked at them, even Dean, as if he didn’t recognize them, before blinking several times as recognition dawned on his face.

It was impossible to stand idly by when they heard Cas muttering to himself, as if answering prayers or talking to his brothers and sisters over angel radio, which he could no longer tune into.

The brothers tried to let Cas live his life, both helping where they could. Dean would always slip an arm around Cas’s waist if he noticed the crippled angel was trying to walk somewhere. The slight touch was enough for Cas to lean almost his entire body weight on the hunter.

One day, Cas collapsed. Walking down the hallway, his knees merely gave out, and the tired angel crumpled to the floor. His kneecaps shrieked in pain as they hit the hardwood floor, and he grit his teeth to keep from crying out. Both Sam and Dean rushed to him at the sound of the crash, and together they carried Cas up to the eldest Winchester’s bedroom. 

Cas never got out of bed. 

His meals were brought to him, though he never ate. He spent his time staring at the ceiling, hands folded loosely across his chest. His lips moved, as if in silent prayer.

Dean almost never left his bed side. In the times that Cas actually fell asleep, Dean would gingerly sit down on the edge of the bed and carefully take the angel’s hand in his. Raising the man’s knuckles to his lips, Dean would close his eyes tightly and pray. He would pray to every angel he could name, even those he knew had died, even those whom he hated with all his being. Help never came. 

Cas didn’t recognize Dean anymore. Sometimes he’d spend hours staring at the green-eyed man, confusion clouding his features. If Dean glanced over at him, he would swear he could see the gears turning behind those blue eyes, as if it was taking everything left just in an attempt to remember who this hunter was.

“Do I know you?” Cas asked one day, his voice hoarse and ragged.

Dean glanced up from his book, almost unsure whether or not Cas had actually spoken. When he’d determined he’d really heard the words leave the angel’s mouth, he sat up straighter.

“Yeah,” Dean said softly. “Yeah, you do know me.”

Cas nodded satisfactorily. “That’s what I thought,” he said before returning his attention to the ceiling.

This was the first of many conversations the two had in Castiel’s weakened state. The angel’s voice comforted Dean; it was a sign he was still here, even if he wasn’t all here.

Sometimes Cas talked nonsensically, telling Dean stories of times long before the hunter was born in 1979. Dean tried to play along, and he told Cas stories of his own, but sometimes he got lost in Cas’s tales.

They were things he’d never heard his angel, or any angel, say before.

“Your soul was ragged,” Cas said one morning, blue eyes locked on Dean.

Dean’s eyes widened. “My… Excuse me?”

“You are Dean Winchester,” Cas said, though it was wholeheartedly a statement, there was no questioning intonation. 

“Yes, I’m Dean Winchester,” Dean said, his muscles softening slightly at the sound of his name.

“Your soul was ragged when I dragged you out. I had to piece you back together, like a puzzle.”

Dean sat in silence, utterly shocked by the words he was hearing. His lack of response, however, didn’t discourage Cas.

“You fought me tooth and nail,” the angel continued softly. “You didn’t want to let go. Your soul didn’t want to let go of the darkness it had acquired. But it was my mission. I had to pull the righteous man from perdition. And so I didn’t give up. And here we are.”

"Here we are,” Dean echoed, his eyes glued to Cas’s face.

“You were always beautiful, though, always pure. Even with that darkness in your soul, you were pure.”

Those were the last words Cas said for several days.

Cas’s breathing was becoming unsteady, and his sleeps were longer and deeper. It felt to Dean as if a snake had taken up residence in his stomach and was writhing continuously. He felt anxious and paranoid; this couldn’t be happening now.

“Dean?” Cas said one morning, and the hunter looked up, a sense of relief warming his chest as he saw that his angel’s eyes were open.

“Yes,” Dean said, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“You’re here,” Cas murmured, looking up at Dean. “I thought… You didn’t have to stay.”

“I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to stay,” Dean replied, running his fingers lightly through Cas’s hair, his stomach turning over when he noticed that the angel’s forehead was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

Cas managed a small smile and nuzzled into Dean, who adjusted his position on the bed so that the two were lying next to each other.

“I don’t have much time left,” Cas whispered after a bout of silence, his eyes closed once more. “This… This is already growing fuzzy.”

“I know,” Dean said truthfully. “But it’s going to be alright.”

“You just… Need to know something,” Cas said between breaths. It was obvious he was really struggling to fill his lungs.

“What’s that?” Dean said.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas said, barely audibly. “And please don’t worry. I’ll… I’ll see you again.”

“Cas, I—” Dean started, but before he’d finished, he noticed Cas’s chest was no longer moving. “Cas?” he said more urgently, moving to get a better grip on the angel’s shoulders. He sat them both up, cupping Cas’s face with one hand, the other supporting his shoulder.

“Cas, come on,” he said, shaking the other man. “Come on, not now.” But nothing Dean did would wake Castiel. Dean took a long, shaky breath, letting Cas fall forward onto his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’s back and nuzzled into his neck.

“Goddammit, Cas,” he muttered, grabbing a fistful of Cas’s hair. “I love you, too. And damn right I’ll see you soon.”


End file.
